


I'm Not A Duck

by InAHandbasket (szm)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: AU - Rentboy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szm/pseuds/InAHandbasket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate first meeting for Foggy and Matt.</p><p>Based on a <a href="http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/4501.html?thread=8607125#cmt8607125">prompt for the kinkmeme.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not A Duck

“Where the fuck is Jess?” snarled the man right in Matt’s face. His breath stank of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cigarettes.

“Sick,” said Matt with a shrug. “She thought you might like someone to make it up to you?” He leaned his shoulders back against the wall, which had the added bonus of moving Matt away from the man’s breath. Matt positioned himself carefully, angling his body so the man could see what was on offer but also so Matt could attack if he needed to. Actually it was Jess’s kid that was sick, but Jess couldn’t afford to lose a regular, even one as sleazy as this. Jess said it was just a blowjob, and that this guy wasn’t exactly a poster boy for stamina.

“Stupid whore,” spat the man. “What does she think I need with a blind faggot?”

Matt imagined punching the fat, sweaty idiot straight in the face. He could knock out a few teeth, spin and drive an elbow into his stomach. Bring his fist up into the guy’s nose, make him bleed. Grab an arm and twist it until it broke, all in less than 10 seconds… But Jess needed this gig, she had a kid to feed, and it’s not like this job came with sick pay. Matt smirked, letting just a little of the enjoyment he felt from imagining the violence into his smile. “Hey, a mouth’s a mouth, right? I’ll even give you a discount.”

“Faggot,” spat the man again, but he was reaching for his belt so Matt figured that as a ‘yes’. 

“Condom,” said Matt. “Or it’s full price and some extra.”

The man swore, but fumbled in his pocket and Matt heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Matt held his hand out for the money. He got the right number of bills but he had no way of knowing if they were the right denomination. He stuffed them in his back pocket, he left the sunglasses on, it was easier without them but he felt like keeping as many barriers between him and this guy as possible. He sank down to his knees, the guy was half hard and got the rest of the way in Matt’s mouth. The condom tasted foul, but it was better than having to taste the guy. He smelt unwashed and rancid. Matt fought with his gag reflex for more reason than the cock hammering the back of his throat. The guy had his hands in Matt’s hair, pulling and Matt was a little worried he’d have a bald patch by the time the guy was finished. But Jess’ prediction was right, the guy was coming after a minute or so, sweating and swearing and shouting, “Fucking take it, bitch!” 

Matt wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he got up. “See ya round,” he said as he turned to leave. The guy was zipping up and Matt was nearly out the alley before he heard the guy mutter under his breath. “I’m not a fucking faggot.”

Shit, Matt could easily take him in a fight but the idea was that Jess would still have a client next week. Matt started running, and the guy followed footsteps pounding on the pavement behind him. 

Matt ran towards a slightly better street, thinking that he would get scared off and turn away. No such luck. Matt turned a corner and nearly ran straight into another man; he’d been concentrating too hard on the man chasing him, he hadn’t noticed what was up ahead.

“Hey, fella. You okay?” This man smelt of apple, shampoo most probably. He caught Matt’s shoulders and Matt could feel the heat of him through the thin t-shirt he was wearing.

“There’s someone chasing me,” he said, playing up a breathless fear. 

The new man’s eyes widened. “Brett!” he shouted. Another man came out of the all night store next to them, just as the sweaty, hugely out of breath, idiot chasing Matt rounded the corner.

He stopped, saw the man (who smelt like a police station, too many people in a small space, all full of desperation and broken dreams) and suddenly tried to adopt the demeanour of an innocent citizen. It really didn’t work. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so tragic.

“Erm, officer…” he said. So the other man was a cop, he must be wearing a uniform.

“He was chasing this guy,” said apple shampoo to the cop.

“Stupid whore, stole from me. I was minding my own business and he just grabbed my money and ran. You should arrest him,” said the idiot, it was painful really listening to him try and be clever.

“Right,” said apple shampoo. “You were minding your own business when the _blind_ guy robbed you. Also we can see the state of his mouth and your fly is undone. I’m sure he more than earned whatever money he got from you, asshole.”

“I’m not a fag…” started the guy but the cop put himself between the man and apple shampoo.

“You don’t wanna finish that thought. Get the hell outta here before I arrest everybody and sort it out at the station, yeah?”

The man grumbled but he turned and left.

“Hey,” said apple shampoo. “You need us to walk with you somewhere. I don’t put it past that guy not to wait around ‘til we’re gone. Hospital maybe? You’ve split your mouth a bit.”

Matt jerked out the other man’s grip. “I don’t need a saviour,” he said bitterly. “I’ll be fine.”

He expected the other man to get angry. People generally did if you weren’t grateful enough for their ‘kindness’. But the man just took a step back and spoke calmly. “I’m not offering religion, just a band-aid and some company.”

Matt was a little confused. “I’m going to go,” he said carefully.

“Don’t let me catch you hanging round here when I’m on duty,” warned the cop.

“Brett!” exclaimed apple shampoo. “Rude.”

‘Brett’ sounded exasperated but weary, like he was used to fruitlessly arguing with the other man. “He’s a hooker, Foggy. 

“You don’t have any evidence for that officer,” said ‘Foggy’. 

“You’re such a defence lawyer,” muttered Brett.

“And you’re the only clean cop in Hell’s Kitchen,” countered Foggy. “So I don’t think we get to judge anyone on their _alleged_ career choices.” The cop huffed but didn’t argue further and Foggy turned back to Matt. “I’m a lawyer. Foggy Nelson.” He pushed a piece of card into Matt’s hand. “If you need one, for whatever, then give me call. Er… you’ll have to get someone to read you the number. Sorry, I should look into getting braille on these things.”

“What would I pay you with? Or would you take it in trade?” asked Matt, deliberately trying to shake the guy, because really no-one was ever this nice.

“I do a lot of pro-bono,” said Foggy, ignoring Matt’s comment. “I’m trying to earn my soul back.” He sounded self-deprecating and genuinely sad about that. “I mean it; call me if you need help, yeah?”

“Come on, Ma is going to kick my ass if I don’t get you home in one piece,” said the cop, pulling Foggy away. 

Foggy waved at Matt as Brett pulled him away. Then shouted, “I waved at you.”

Matt couldn’t stifle the smile.

“Success! He smiles,” called Foggy.

Matt didn’t answer he turned away and walked in the opposite direction but he couldn’t quite lose the smile. He listened to Foggy and Brett’s conversation with half an ear as they walked away.

“Adopting strays now, Foggy?” asked the cop. “Cus that guy is a world of trouble, trust me.”

“He’s a handsome wounded duck,” argued Foggy. “And he’s not trouble, he’s _in_ trouble. There’s a difference _officer_.”

Matt frowned, he wasn’t a duck. And he was quite capable of taking care of himself. He had no intention of ever calling Foggy, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw the card away. He tucked it into his back pocket with the money. He needed to go home and get changed. He still had his other job to do after all.


End file.
